


A Greater Demand

by Maybethings



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demands of the Qun, F/M, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3183734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybethings/pseuds/Maybethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heavy spoilers for Iron Bull's personal quest. To Inquisitor Adaar falls the choice of sacrificing the Bull's Chargers, or the faceless many within a Qunari dreadnought. Neither one seems a viable option, and so he proposes his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Greater Demand

**Author's Note:**

> DAI's Demands of the Qun is to me what DA2's All That Remains is to a lot of people. The Inquisitor is given two choices: to sacrifice the Bull's men, those loyal misfits he's patched together into the greatest team around, or to tear him out of the creed he is still willing to serve and brand him (rather arbitrarily, but that's just my opinion) as one of the things he and his people most hate, and to heap even more self-doubt upon him.
> 
> In the immortal words of Cassandra, bullshit. In the immortal words of Koslun, suffering is a choice, and we can refuse it. So here's an Inquisitor refusing, and the very best option he can live with.

Halim Adaar took a deep breath as he considered his options. "No," he said, and his voice was all the firmer for how quiet it was against the neverending rain of the Storm Coast.

"No? No what?" Gatt countered. "Those Tevinter mages must be kept occupied, or they'll turn on our dreadnought! Hissrad, you know what happens to a ship crippled like that." He shook his head as the Iron Bull flinched. "There's no way--"

"Yes, there is. There  _must_ be." The Inquisitor's eyes burned like twin flames. "The Chargers did not ask for this fight, but they're in the thick of it anyway. If we act  _now_ , there's no need to sacrifice them." Halim drew his weapon as he looked to his companion. "Bull, you have your blade. I have my shield. One of us holds this point with Cassandra and the Ben-Hassrath. The other cuts off those Venatori with Cole. Choose."

The Iron Bull looked at Halim, mouth a grim, tense line. His lip twitched. A short, hard bark of a chuckle escaped him. "Guess I'll give my boys a hand, boss."

"Please do."

" _Hissrad!"_ Gatt spluttered, desperation edging every letter. But it was too late. Bull was near flying down the slopes, his metal-braced boot clashing against the stones with every step.

"Cole, can you move fast--really fast?" The young man's daggers were already drawn, his spine as tense as a bow string.

"Faster than magic, flowing like water,  _like waves crashing. Hearts pounding like a war drum. Not again, no more loss_. I can stop them with Bull. I can!"

"Follow Bull. Go ahead of him, if you can." He glanced over at Cassandra, a flicker of apology in his eyes. "And I'm afraid you're stuck with me, Seeker."

"There is no need to say anything." She already had her shield up, her blade out. "You have made your decision, and I will stand by it."

"This is folly," Gatt said through gritted teeth, obviously trying not to yell.  _Yet you're still here with us_ , thought the Inquisitor. "You're going to get that dreadnought sunk  _and_ those mercenaries killed." A series of pained and panicked yowls rose from the drop behind them. The tang of magic filled the air and the elf's nose flared in distaste at it. "Why would you risk this mission now?!"

"Gatt, is the Iron Bull...is Hissrad not of the Qun?" Halim asked, without turning to meet his eye.

"I don't know. Maybe." He snarled a curse deep in his throat. " _Yes._ "

"The Chargers are his men. They have been his men since I first knew him. Does the Qun abandon its own?"

Silence followed. Strained. Terrible. There was only the rain whispering against the rocks and rattling against their armour, the sounds of battle below, the tense clink of mail and creak of leather gloves as their wearer clenched and unclenched his hands. "If this doesn't work, Inquisitor..." Gatt hissed, equal parts defeated and furious.

"Then we may still say we tried our best." Halim blinked the rain out of his eyes, shook his head vigorously. "I can't--I  _won't_  stand by and watch any of our men be killed, no matter the cause." A yell rose above the din, and it was undoubtedly the Iron Bull; whether he gave voice in pain or triumph, none could yet say.

Another clump of Venatori came for the trio then, drenched to the bone and positively furious at their intrusion. Halim planted his feet more firmly and roared a challenge, brandishing his weapon, just as Cassandra did the same. They plunged into battle, Gatt dashing to flank them, and the Inquisitor pushed back furiously against their foes. He lashed out with his shield arm, knocking a screaming swordsman straight off the precipice. One down. He glanced over the ledge, hoping that it had been quick.

"Inquisitor!" Cassandra yelled. Halim turned to see a burning flask arcing slowly through the air, aimed straight for his chest, then there was Cassandra and her back and her Seeker's shield, a flash of hot orange, a bitten-back cry. His full focus fell back to the battlefield, and before any other venomous concoctions could be thrown their way he was upon their assailant, raining down blows enough to occupy them straight into the grave.

They  _had_  to hold, no matter what. The dreadnought and its living cargo had to sail away unmolested; the Chargers could not be left for Tevinter to trample into the ground. Each life, known and unknown, depended on their endurance. Each blow and block faded into the muzzy muddle of battle, and Halim saw nothing else but the enemy before him; thought of nothing else but dodging, blocking, pushing the foe back,  _back_ , away, shrugging off the blows--

And suddenly it was down to one last man, a mage in sodden robes, his fingers sticking to the pages of his spellbook as he cast with teeth bared and bloody. Cassandra's sword rose and fell, and he pitched forward, his back laid open from shoulder to hip. He twitched twice, gurgled, and lay still. Halim stood staring at him for a long time, hoping he wouldn't get up and there were no others coming after him, before realising that the sounds of battle had stopped. Completely. Heart plummeting, he peered over the edge of their cliff. Only Venatori bodies lay scattered on the path to the second vantage point, broken with Qunari efficiency. Heart pounding, he peered through the rain at the cliffs on the opposite side.

The beacon burned still. The ground was littered with corpses, too many and too far away to quite tell whose. But--there, a great horned shadow stood starkly out in the gray, brandishing his weapon in what could only be victory.

A yell of triumph bubbled from Halim's throat and he rose his sword arm in acknowledgement. He turned his head to the ocean and there, sliding silently toward the horizon, was the Qunari dreadnought, gliding into the mists beyond the range of even the most powerful mage or archer. The mission had been completed.

"You are the most almighty fool, Inquisitor," Gatt said, leaning on his sword as he wiped some blood from his jaw.

Halim watched Bull and Krem retreat, leaning heavily on each other, and counted five intact heads behind them. A smile spread across his face. "We are the fools who have won."

\--

"The Qun commits, or not at all. You've made things difficult," said Gatt. It had taken a few days for everyone to sufficiently recover from the battle. 'Sufficiently' was a rather subjective term; Halim had stubbornly pulled himself out of bed for this meeting at Skyhold, despite three layers of poultice-soaked bandages still under his shirt.

"Difficult  _how_?" Cassandra cut in, her brows drawing together in a near perfect V as she glowered at him. Cole cautiously took a few paces backward, hands inching up in front of his face."Your dreadnought was able to retreat without casualty. The Venatori have been hobbled. What else are you asking for?"

"For none of that--that risk-taking, to start!" he shot back. "Things are delicate enough as it is, back on Par Vollen and Seheron. The last thing we need is for a move like that to go wrong and for valuable men to be lost! For  _more_ valuable men to be lost because of a rash decision like that!"

"Gatt." The Iron Bull raised a hand. "Stand down. Nobody actually died out there except a bunch of Vints. Skinner's got a bunch of new scars and Grim still sleeps nine hours out of ten, but they're fine."

"That's the other problem." That same desperate look from the Storm Coast had crept back into Gatt's eyes, and Halim realised with lightning-strike clarity that he was  _afraid._ Afraid that the Qun would discard their agent after all, finding him of no more use. Afraid that the man who saved him could no longer be saved himself. "What do I tell them now, old friend? That you nearly sabotaged an operation to save a group of _basra_?"

"Those  _basra_  are  _my men_ ," Bull drawled, "and you asked them to hold a position so  _they did._ You sure weren't complaining up there on the Coast!"

"Enough--enough,  _parshaara!"_ Halim barked, wincing as he felt something split under his bandages from the outburst. The resulting stunned silence gave him just enough time to catch his breath. Not the greatest decision he'd made that whole week. When he next spoke, it was a chore to keep the rasp out of his voice. "Ben-Hassrath, I gave the Iron Bull his orders. He followed them. If anyone is to blame here, it's only me. I dare say you can tell the Qun that he is still capable of serving and protecting his people, combatant or no. I trust him with my life on a regular basis and he has  _not_  gone to the grey." His pale yellow eyes bored steadily into Gatt's own. "Know this. Everyone here has pledged their life to our cause, directly or indirectly. Given the chance, I will not leave a single one to die."

"And now you know exactly how far the Inquisition will go for the folks they work with," Bull said, seeing the opening and seizing it.

" _Whoever_  they may be," Cassandra added firmly.

"It's..." Gatt's eyes narrowed as he considered the slant, the near-lie. "It's something to be considered," he finished stiffly. "But I can promise nothing now. Reports and decisions must be made. Perhaps we may choose to work with you in the future."

"I look forward to it," Halim said honestly. "Safe travels, Gatt."

"My thanks, Inquisitor.  _Panahedan,_ Hissrad." He left them standing there, brushing past Cole as if he hadn't seen him. Odds were good that he never had.

"You okay, boss?" the Iron Bull asked after the elf had disappeared from earshot.

"I should ask you the same," he replied with a wry smile and a cough. "Thank you for trusting me. You didn't have to follow my word back there, but you did."

"You didn't have to save the Chargers. But you did," Bull countered with a shrug. "Just how do you know I haven't 'gone grey', as you put it?" If Halim didn't know better, he would have sworn there was real doubt in his voice. But there was certainly none in his own reply.

"If you had really turned from the Qun, you would not have doubted sacrificing the dreadnought. You still want to serve them, and--any Qunari worth their salt would fall on their own blade before harming their own. Or am I wrong?"

That same twitch of a lip, but this time it turned into a half-smile. And it stayed. "Probably not."

Cassandra nodded shortly. "It was a noble effort. But tell me, Inquisitor. What would you have done if Gatt had pressed the matter?"

He grimaced. "I don't know. I don't think either choice was acceptable. It's not worth sacrificing anyone's lives for an alliance, even with the Qun itself."

" _Battle--blood and bruises and little cat paws_ ," Cole murmured. " _Can't leave, won't leave, runners rooted, roaring a challenge. Names like falling leaves, friend with wide horns wise and worn, the scarred Seeker sways my heart. All worthy, all warm, willingly protected._ "

"...S-something like that, Cole," Halim spluttered, feeling heat rising in his cheeks and studiously looking anywhere but at Cassandra. Bull had no such qualms and bust out laughing as he watched her blush redder than any rose.

"Better go see how the rest of the Chargers are doing. Grim's worse than a bear when he wakes up. And...thanks again, boss, for all of this. We all owe you a round of drinks." He clapped Halim hard enough on the shoulder to set him to coughing again, and left the others standing awkwardly around the Skyhold training dummies. The Inquisitor rubbed the sore spot on his back and gave Cassandra a sheepish smile.

"I...er, I should go let our advisors know how things went." he said, his traitorous throat drying up around his voice, the words crackling like dry sticks. Mercifully, Cole seemed to have fled. For now. "Thank you for...uh, the thing. With the shield. And the flask. You weren't badly hurt?"

"It was nothing," Cassandra said, the words tumbling a little too quick, a little too high. "Perhaps when you are recovered..." She cleared her throat, straightened her spine, looked him in the eye. "...we might spar together, Adaar. I would appreciate your company."

Halim blinked. Smiled around his deep breath. Nodded. "I would be honoured, Cassandra. Yes."


End file.
